


hey now (you're an all-star)

by alfisha



Series: halloween spoopy tales! [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Crack Relationships, M/M, Runes, Shrek References, Shrek is Love Shrek is Life, Tags Are Fun, Why Did I Write This?, i dont know how to tag this, just crack, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfisha/pseuds/alfisha
Summary: Prompt: 12. Why is Harry’s blood green? by goldenzingy46An Incident leads to Harry finding out that what he desires most in the universe... is Shrek.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Shrek (Shrek), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: halloween spoopy tales! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946014
Comments: 68
Kudos: 33





	1. Désir Couleur-inator 5000

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldenzingy46](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenzingy46/gifts).



> hi um  
> yeah.  
> i have nothing to say. just.  
> i wonder when my writing "career" went so far downhill.  
> enjoy?? if thats possible.  
> youre welcome trixie, you did this to me 

The day started off as most days do.

Harry trudged down to the Great Hall in his Shrek jammies, Ron staggering in beside him. They sat down at their usual places on the Gryffindor table, and the trio had a peaceful breakfast.

There were, of course, the occasional glances at Harry’s choice in bedwear, but fuck ‘em! This was his life and he gets to choose what fandoms to be a part of.

And so breakfast was a success. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione went back to their dorms, got changed into their uniforms - Harry with his Shrek badge - and went on their way to classes.

First up was Charms. 

Flitwick made the class gather in a circle, and explained that all they had to do this lesson was a practical - amazing news, right?

Wrong. The practical in question was a practice on the Muffliato charm. Which sounded all well and good when the Professor told them that, but as Harry got into position and fired the spell at his raving Shrek All-Star alarm clock, the volume only increased.

The class stared. 

Harry hadn't felt this uncomfortable since Malfoy pulled down his trousers to reveal Shrek underwear back in fourth year.

The sound of Smash Mouth's angelic voice boomed throughout the classroom, with students everywhere screaming and diving for cover.

Each time Harry cast a new spell on it, the alarm clock just got louder. Honestly, Harry didn't really know what the fuss was about. 

The tune really was quite lovely, and he found himself tapping his foot and humming along to the lyrics as the chaos around him grew tenfold.

Flitwick emerged from the throng of sobbing students clutching their ears, his elvish ears adorned with a pair of what looked like Professor Sprout's Mandrake earmuffs.

"Would you like a hand, Potter?" He shouted over the noise, and half of the students breathed a sigh of relief at the prospect of silence.

Harry shook his head, smiling. "That's all right, Professor. Just need a bit of practice is all."

Professor Flitwick looked as though he wanted to argue, but didn't. He merely pursed his lips and nodded, causing the rest of the students to screech in protest.

If you asked Harry, Flitwick ought to put the Muffliato on  _ them _ , because they were honestly giving him a headache.

But finally, just before the class ended, the sound of Smash Mouth finally shuddered to a stop, and the poor alarm clock looked just about wrecked from the amount of spells being thrown at it. 

At some point during the lesson, the rest of the students had abandoned their own objects in favour of trying desperately to put an end to the Shrek abuse. 

Harry could have done it alone, but whatever.

The next class was Runes, which Hermione and Tom had bullied him into taking. He'd kicked and hissed and thrown up a fuss, threatening to litter their beds with Shrek "juice" - he refused to go into further detail on what  _ that _ was - but they persevered and eventually made him take the subject.

It wasn't so bad, honestly. Not that he'd ever tell either of them that.

So Harry and Hermione bade Ron their farewells (the redhead had stubbornly gone with Divination, under the impression that he could "just bullshit it") and headed off to the Runes classroom.

They entered the class a few minutes early, and opted for sitting right at the front - Harry had had no say in this decision whatsoever, and followed Hermione to the seats, grumbling and complaining all the while.

He fondled his Shrek badge once seated, however, and allowed himself a small smile.

Tom came in a few moments later, along with two other Slytherin girls. 

Harry watched as he scanned the room impatiently, and how his taut shoulders relaxed once he caught sight of Harry.

Harry waved him over, and Tom complied, taking a seat beside him.

"Hey." Harry said.

"Hello." Tom replied, poking the Shrek badge. Harry laughed.

And then the teacher burst into the room with a large instrument, and his laughter ceased as all attention was turned on the Professor.

"This," She puffed, dragging the thing in behind her. "Is a Désir Couleur-inator 5000." She said, and the class 'ooh'ed.

"Yes, yes, settle down, you don't even know what it does yet." She grumbled, and the room hushed instantly. She dragged the Désir Couleur-inator 5000 into the middle of the room, and those sitting at the back of the room craned their necks to see what was going on.

"The contraption uses Runes to detect a wizard's deepest, most forbidden desire, and turn their blood the colour that that desire represents. For example, if I desire honey above all else, it'll turn golden-yellow." 

Now,  _ that  _ was interesting.

"That makes no sense." Tom muttered, and Harry had to hold back a snicker.

"Hold your shit together, Riddle. I'm sure she's gonna break the logic down soon enough."

Tom scowled at him, as did the Professor.

"Anything you wanted to add, Mr. Potter?"

Harry gulped, fingering the miniature Shrek figure he kept in his pocket at all times.

"No, Professor." He mumbled, and Tom snorted beside him.

"Good. Now," said the Professor, turning her attention away from them. "I want you all to think: why would a device like this be  _ useful _ ?"

When the class only stared blankly at her, she sighed in frustration and waved her arms. "Well? Discuss!" 

And so the room burst into chatter.

"It could be for guessing people's true motives behind crimes?" Guessed Hermione, although she did look a little puzzled.

Not as much as Tom. "I don't see any point in it. Legilimency can solve that question in an instant. And, anyway, what is the colour of their blood going to tell you?" He grumbled, and Harry just shrugged.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Harry shook his head at her. 

It's not worth getting into a debate about.

However reluctantly, Hermione shut her mouth and slumped in her seat.

"Attention!" The Professor called, and the class went silent. "Good. Now, can anyone tell me what they thought?"

No one raised their hand.

The Professor sighed. "Come on. Not one of you?"

No answer.

Looking desperate, she glanced in their direction. "You! Riddle, is it? Go on, let me hear your thoughts."

"Are you a Legilimens, Professor?" Tom asked sweetly, and Harry, yet again, stifled a laugh. The teacher's face turned exasperated.

"You know what I mean. Tell us what you discussed!"

"Well," Tom started, leaning forward in his seat. "Honestly, Professor, I don't think there's much point to this contraption at all. It seems completely useless to me." Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione let out a muffled sound of indignation, and watched as the Professor's face lit up.

"Yes! Exactly! Thank you, Riddle, ten points to Slytherin! This device is absolute codswallop! It has no real use whatsoever!"

Somehow, this didn't get the reaction she expected.

"But, Professor-" Hermione called, not even waiting to be given permission to talk. "Surely there is some use? Otherwise, why would-"

"Exactly that! Why, indeed! Witches and wizards who study Runes have asked this question for centuries: why does the Désir Couleur-inator 5000 exist?"

Silence met her once again.

Sighing, the Professor sat on her desk, rubbing a hand over her face, probably wishing for a more interactive class.

"What you must understand, students, is that sometimes, things do not have a direct purpose. This instrument has no real goal. It is... useless. It exists just for the purpose of existing. You must understand that."

She stood up once again, fixing them all with a stern glare. 

"This instrument is not to be tampered with. It is centuries old, and could be dangerous. It is out of bounds for students, Seventh Years or not. Is that clear?"

A grumble of 'yes's greeted her.

"Good. I'll see you all next week."

And with that, they were dismissed.

* * *

All was well for that day, but Harry's mind wouldn't stop whirling.

For some unknown reason, he felt...  _ drawn _ to the Désir Couleur-inator 5000. He needed to see what his greatest desire was.

The added prospect of a challenge was also very tempting.

"Harry, no!" Hermione screeched when Harry proposed his plan of using the instrument. "You heard what the Professor said! It's out of bounds, and could be dangerous!"

"Sounds pretty harmless to me." Ron said idly, flicking through his Divination textbook with a look of complete and utter boredom. 

Harry gestured to Ron, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione. 

"See? Ron thinks it's a good idea!"

"Ron is an idiot, and so are you."

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

Hermione pretended not to hear them. Instead, she glared at Harry with as much ferocity as McGonagall herself.

"You. Are. Not. Going. To. Use. That. Machine." She growled, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Fine,  _ mum _ !" 

* * *

Harry was totally gonna use that machine.

How could he not?

The mysteries of his own desires were lying within that useless contraption, and Harry was going to find out what he wanted even if it killed him.

No, he was not doing this out of spite for the rule against using it.

Not at all.

However, it just so happened that Harry’s very competitive brain seemed to take the Professor’s order as a direct challenge of strength.

But even Harry could admit that he needed help - well, sometimes - from someone who knew about Runes, and since Hermione was uncooperative, he had to find someone else.

Which is why Harry found himself under the Invisibility Cloak at 2:15 in the morning, shaking Tom awake. Tonight, Harry had donned his Special Occasion Shrek and onion pyjamas, and Tom blinked slowly when he saw them, swallowing hard. 

Harry smirked behind his hand. These pyjamas always made Tom go mad.

“Tom. I need you to help me with something?” He hissed, and Tom blinked again, this time less confused and more suspicious.

“That’s a first,” The dark-haired boy muttered, then shook his head. “...What is it?”

So Harry announced his plan yet again, with absolute confidence that his boyfriend would agree.

“No way.” Tom said immediately after he’d finished. “Absolutely not.”

“Come  _ on! _ ” Harry whined, sitting near Tom's legs and making sure to give a clear view of the ripest onion on his clothes. “I swear it won’t take long. In and out! I’ll even take full responsibility if we’re caught, which won’t happen, because we’re awesome.”

Tom paused for a moment, and Harry had just started silently congratulating himself when-

“What do I get out of this?”

Of course. Fucking Slytherin.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Depends on what you want.”

Another pause, this time longer. “I want your onion-flavoured lube.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?! You  _ know  _ that’s my most prized possession!” He said, outraged, knocking his Cloak to the floor.

Tom smiled smugly, looking way too pleased with himself. “I know.”

Harry groaned. It was a big sacrifice, but he  _ needed  _ to know his desire…

“Fine, you prick. Help me tonight and I’ll give it tomorrow.”

That did the trick. Tom sat up, pulled on his slippers, ran a hand through his somehow perfect hair - git - and smiled as he stood up. He held out a hand to Harry.

“Excellent. What’re we waiting for?”


	2. finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more shrek-nanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to wait and post this on valentine's day but i just want this story gone so fucking badly. i need it to be posted so i can just never look at it again. please.   
> also. this took so fucking long to finish i know but... i havent had the willpower to post this and you'll find out why as soon as you read it. its so cursed. help me.

To Harry's surprise, getting to the machine was actually very easy.

Tom only had to cast two ward-breaking spells! Honestly, it's as if the teacher _wanted_ him to use it!

Anyway, they got into the classroom, broke the wards on the Désir Couleur-inator 5000, and just...

Stood there.

"Well?" Tom asked, finally breaking the tense silence. "We're here. Let's make this quick, I don't fancy getting detention tomorrow."

Harry rolled his eyes, but decided not to grace his idiot boyfriend with a response. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped toward the instrument.   
Just as he was about to touch it, a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, wait... How do I even use it?"

Tom huffed and came over, inspecting the device. It was rather large, and reminded Harry somewhat of a dentist's chair, except the 'seat' had what looked like a rod protruding from it. The back of the chair was gold and engraved with runes, none of which Harry recognised.

Just as he was about to touch it, a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, wait... How do I even use it?"

Tom huffed and came over, inspecting the device. It was rather large, and reminded Harry somewhat of a dentist's chair, except the 'seat' had what looked like a rod protruding from it. The back of the chair was gold and engraved with runes, none of which Harry recognised.

"I think you have to sit on it." Tom said thoughtfully, inspecting the runes with interest.

Harry looked at the seat and its probe spike in disdain. "...Are you sure?"

Tom tutted and looked back at him exasperatedly. "As if you're not dying to try it. Look, you're already half hard from just the prospect of having something over than onions and my dick inside you. Just sit already and we can be done with it."

...And it was true.

Tom's dick was satisfying, and could fill him up nicely (plus Tom was hot as _fuck_ ), and onions always made him feel an exhilaration not even flying could match, but there was just something so _new_ and _different_ about this. 

Without giving himself time to think it over more, Harry pulled down his pyjamas and sat on the chair, ignoring Tom's snort of surprised amusement. 

Without any kind of prep, the initial feeling was... less than comfortable. Harry yelped in pain as the rod penetrated him, but he bit his lip and kept going, sinking farther and farther down , until he was sat completely on the chair, ass full and eyes squeezed shut.

"Alright?" Tom asked, and Harry let out a strangled affirmative noise.

For a few moments, nothing happened.

And then Harry gasped, as suddenly the pain was lifted and his ass felt pleasantly slick, welcoming the rod with open... walls? Did asses have walls?

The feeling was so surprisingly wonderous that Harry accidentally let slip an embarrassing moan, causing Tom to chuckle from where he was reading the runes behind the chair.

"Having fun?" He asked teasingly, and Harry was so blissed out that all he could do was gurgle a barely comprehensible "Yes".

"I've been looking at the runes, and... I'm pretty sure it finds out your desire through sexual contact."

"Huh?" Harry mumbled, for he has barely heard what had been said."

"It means you have to fuck the chair!" Tom hissed, irritated.

Hmm. Well, that didn't seem bad at all. In fact, Harry was more than happy to comply with the chair's wishes. He smiled dazedly, nodding.

"Okay. Good job you have an exhibitionism kink." He said, and tuned out Tom's spluttering as he slid slowly up the rod...

And back down again.

Repeatedly.

And, fuck, it felt good.

Which was wrong, and stupid, and incredibly insane, but Harry really couldn’t care less right then.

He bobbed up and down rapidly, hardly able to slow himself even if he wanted to, and in a matter of moments he felt something cold yet warm shoot up inside him.

Harry yelped in surprise, having not expected a chair to  _ ejaculate _ . Tom came over, looking at Harry with a concerned expression.

“...Are you okay?”

No he was not. “The chair just fucking  _ came in me!” _

Tom blinked as Harry rapidly shot off the chair, yanking his pyjamas up. “Come again?”

Harry scream-groaned, trying to wipe the sweat that had gathered on his neck and forehead. “You heard me!” 

“Well, did it work?”

Ah. Harry had been so freaked out about an inanimate object filling him up with… whatever that was, that he’d forgotten all about their purpose being here. 

“Uh, I’m not sure.” Harry peered down at his wrists, squinting at his veins in earnest, and heard Tom sigh beside him.

“That’s not going to work, dimwit. Did you at least bring a knife?”

Right, that would have been helpful. “No…”

“Any kind of sharp object?” 

“Nuh-uh.”

“Your  _ wand?” _

“...No.”

“You’re an imbecile.”

Harry scowled but said nothing - how could he even argue? The evidence was stacked against him. “Did  _ you  _ bring your wand?” He asked scathingly.

“As a matter of fact, yes I did. Come here.” Tom said cheerfully, tugging Harry towards him. Without a moment to ask what he was doing, Tom had pulled out his wand and cast a mild cutting hex on his wrists, and Harry howled in pain.

“What the fuck? You fucking-” 

“Shut  _ up. _ ” Tom hissed, silencing Harry with a hand over his mouth, his brown eyes fixed on the blood flowing through the harsh marks on Harry’s arms.

Blood that hadn’t changed colour. Not even a little bit.

Harry sighed, and peeled Tom’s hand away from his face. “Forget it. I should have known it wouldn’t work.”

Tom returned to the Slytherin dungeons, and Harry to the Gryffindor tower.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. The professor had  _ told  _ them it most likely wouldn’t work, and yet he went anyway.

Whatever. Harry flopped into bed, staring glumly out the window as the first bits of morning sunlight began to make an appearance, and his hand drifted without permission to his still-leaking ass.

What a strange, strange evening.

~

The next day, Harry awoke to a slap over the head.

“Wake up!” Ron yelled, right next to his ear.

After a tiny fight over waking up methods, the pair met Hermione in the common room and ventured down into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Yet again, all was well.

The peace lasted up until second period. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione each had Potions, whilst Tom was in Transfiguration. Ron and Harry sat beside each other at their usual desk, with Hermione directly behind them next to Neville. 

They were brewing some kind of healing paste. Snape had mentioned the name, but Harry had been far too focussed on making sure that his Shrek socks were correctly positioned, and that his ogre ears were protruding neatly from his head. All he remembered was that it was 'absolutely essential you don't mess this up', and that failure ‘could be fatal’. You know, the usual.

The students received their potions instructions, and the boys took one look at it before mutually agreeing that they were just going to wing it. They cut up their ingredients and threw them into the cauldron at random, the tiny granules and flakes splashing and bubbling in the steaming liquid. It didn’t look how it was supposed to, but Harry figured that it wouldn’t be too bad. 

...He’d figured wrong.

Everything went downhill when he chucked a leg of  _ something  _ into the pot, and the liquid audibly  _ growled. _ Harry and Ron looked at each other just as the sludgy paste began bubbling more violently, and they both eyed it in alarm.

Harry began praying to Shrek right when it burst, the thick, scalding sludge splashing right in Harry’s face. Snape threw up a shield, but it was too late; the potion coated the boys’ face and arms, and the class gasped as it began to sear their skin. 

Snape vanished the liquid hurriedly, and the boys whimpered with scrunched eyes as the burning sensation fully registered. Snape tutted at them menacingly, casting all kinds of cleaning spells, but the burning would not pass.

The class was dead silent.

When Harry opened his eyes, he found out why.

His body was coated in what looked like some sort of luminous potion, the colour so blindingly green he had to squint against it. Heart racing, Harry looked to Ron.

There was no such green liquid on him. In fact, his friend’s situation seemed worse than Harry’s, for he was coated in his own crimson blood.

Ron, too, opened his eyes. They widened in shock as they caught sight of Harry, and Harry saw Hermione’s hand clap over her mouth in realisation.

Harry’s blood was green.

This was it. This was the sign he needed. Suddenly, the pain faded away, and Harry felt… lighter. He raised his head to the ceiling, and he saw  _ green, _ and he smelt the rich, sultry scent of  _ onions.  _

There was a presence in this room, and he knew who it was.

“Have I made you proud, Shrek?” He breathed, and his body was flooded with the overwhelming sensation of calm and tranquility; Shrek was proud. 

Harry barely noticed as the door to the classroom flew open, Tom barrelling through it. 

He barely heard Snape’s reprimand die on his tongue. 

However, he did notice that the all-consuming feeling of peace was drawing his head in the direction of Tom, and so he followed it devotedly.

And Tom… Tom looked glorious. 

His skin had turned a violent, beautiful shade of green, his ears morphed into the shape of those that sat on Harry’s headwear at that moment. His eyes were deep brown and slightly alarmed, though they instantly calmed at the presence of Shrek.

“Harry, I- I don’t know what happened. I was in class and then suddenly my legs were moving and I was so much taller and… I just knew that I  _ had  _ to see you. It was if my entire existence depended on it.”

A soft, all-knowing voice echoed in their ears.  _ “Because it does…”  _

By the looks of it, Tom was as entranced by this voice as Harry was. 

“Let’s go.” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper, and Tom nodded. That breeze washed over them again and suddenly they were in a new world, leaving behind the troubles of their past life.

Harry looked to Tom, and then to their surroundings.

It was their very own swamp. 

_ “You may rest here for the remainder of your days, devoted disciples.”  _ The voice said, and the boys shivered. 

Tom took Harry’s hand. 

“Do you think there’s any onion lube in this shack?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so Tired.  
> i cannot express how disappointed i am that the closest thing to smut i have ever written is for a fucking _shrek crack fic_

**Author's Note:**

> sigh  
> read my other stuff, i swear some of it isnt as cursed as this  
> s o m e.  
> dare u to translate the machine name  
> also follow my tumblr. https://alfiisha.tumblr.com/


End file.
